


Frost No More

by annieca



Category: Captain America (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 05:28:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12857742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annieca/pseuds/annieca
Summary: She was sick of the cold. So was he. She had woken him up from the cold. He had taught her how to relax and enjoy that warmth. A Christmas trip to Madrid helped solidify those thoughts. Written for Hermione's Holiday Hideaway, Prompt "Frost"





	Frost No More

Hermione was sick of cold. After her year on the run, years spent in Edinburgh with the Scottish Ministry of Magic and then a year spent in New York City as the magical liaison to the Muggle United Nations, she was ready to be somewhere where there was no chance of frost. Convincing her boyfriend hadn’t been that hard either - he had spent entirely too much time in Siberia and was happy to never set foot in a place with snow again. She had mentioned to one of her colleagues - a Squib who was the Spanish Ambassador to the U.N. - the need to get away, and he had offered up his penthouse for her and her boyfriend.

That, to make a long story longer, was how she and Bucky Barnes had managed to end up in a palatial apartment smack dab in the middle of Madrid two days before Christmas. After unpacking, she had meant to explore but found the library and hadn’t moved any further.

“Doll, you can’t spend your entire vacation here, reading books on Spanish history. I mean, I know Franco is fascinating…” Bucky leaned against the doorframe, wet hair dripping on his v-neck. “But I’m starting to feel a little neglected.”

Hermione didn’t even look up from her book, “Seems you’ve been doing some reading yourself - you didn’t even know who Franco was last time Gorka mentioned him…”

“Hermione…” Bucky tried not to whine. He had a plan for this vacation and if she spent the entire time in the library, he couldn’t enact it. He also knew, however, that if he tried to pull her out of the library before she was ready, it would backfire. So, he plopped himself into a chair next to her and pulled the closest book - some supposed bestseller called “Quien Se Ha Llevado Mi Queso?” Bucky’s Spanish was rusty but he thought “Who Moved My Cheese” was a really stupid title for a book, if that was the right translation. After a few hours of thoroughly boring work advice chapters, Bucky peaked over his shoulder at Hermione. She was asleep in her chair, mouth open blowing a piece of hair with each exhale, book held tightly to her chest, a finger marking the page.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky said gently, kneeling in front of her. “Do you want to go to the park? It’ll help your body adjust to the time change to get out in the sun.”

Hermione yawned, stretching. “What time is it?”

“About 3. We’ve got a few hours of sunlight left and then we can explore at night before dinner.” He kissed her forehead before standing up. “Wear a nice dress? I got us reservations at a place near the Plaza del Sol.”

About an hour later, they were walking through the Retiro park, hands linked. Bucky seemed to be pulling her along to a specific spot in the park, looking eagerly for what was the right path and the right spot. “James, what is the hurry? We’re not in New York, we’re not at work saving the world. We’re on vacation.”

“I want to find this one spot.”

“And we can’t just stroll to there?”

“I…” Bucky sighed, and just decided to give up there. “You are too inquisitive for your own good, you know that?”

“I’ve been told that many, many times. Now are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Bucky smiled as they rounded the corner - they were at the spot he wanted. “Close your eyes, please?” Hermione cocked her head quizzically, but did as requested. “What do you hear?” It was a technique they had used on each other when the other was in the midst of a full-blown panic attack.

“Ducks. A creek maybe? People walking on gravel,” Hermione prompted.

“And what do you feel?”

“Your arms around me - your metal arm is warm from the sun. I can feel the grass tickling my feet.”

Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled something out, placing it in her hand. “And now?”

“Something round, something round with a…” Her eyes flew open as she realized what it was, her head whipping up and around to meet his eyes. “An engagement ring?”

“If you’ll have me, Hermione. You blew into my life like a storm eight months ago and I cannot even begin to explain the ways in which you have changed me. It was like I was frozen - hidden under the moniker of the Winter Soldier before you chastised my laundry skills. You have warmed me to living again. And I don’t ever want to go back to being that lump of ice again.” He kissed her fingers softly, waiting for confirmation before slipping the ring on her finger.

“On one condition,” she said as they were walking out of the park to the Prado.

“What’s that?”

“I’ll marry you on one condition.” She smiled up at him, “Can we spend winters somewhere where it doesn’t frost let alone snow?”

Bucky grinned. “Absolutely.”

***

They loved the flat in Madrid so much they ended up purchasing it from Gorka. And December 23rd, they would walk to the Retiro Park and find that path with the ducks to relive that moment. They found jobs that allowed them to work remotely for the coldest New York months and spent it drinking too much wine and eating entirely too many servings of jamon. There were mostly good times, but the scars from their pasts still lingered. Each time, one or the other would stand, arms wrapped around their partner and remind them to live in that exact moment. Bucky’s ritual included running rough fingers over the white gold band, a reminder of his tether to this world; a reminder that the frost had gone.


End file.
